


Kill The Child (Or Let Him Live)

by InkheartFirebringer



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Callum giving his secret away, Canon Universe, Different Perspective, For the end of The Bronze Key and start of the Silver Mask, Gen, Master Rufus POV, Master Rufus being incredibly conflicted about said secret, Spoilers for Books One to Four, extra scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkheartFirebringer/pseuds/InkheartFirebringer
Summary: '“Yes! I am the Enemy of Death!”The words seem to echo and ring in the moonlit clearing and for a moment it feels like Rufus’ heart has seized in his chest. All he can do is stare at Callum (Constantine?)  as he half-kneels beside, half-crouches over the body of Aaron, his grey eyes bright with tears.'Master Rufus' point of view of the moment Callum reveals himself in front of the Magisterium's Masters, and of the events that followed.





	Kill The Child (Or Let Him Live)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Magisterium series.
> 
> A/N: *SPOILERS* (Actually, this whole damn fic is a big spoiler for books one to three, and I talk about spoilers for book four in the author’s notes at the end too, just to let you know.)

* * *

_“Yes! I am the Enemy of Death!”_

The words seem to echo and ring in the moonlit clearing and for a moment it feels like Rufus’ heart has seized in his chest. All he can do is stare at Callum ( _Constantine?)_  as he half-kneels beside, half-crouches over the body of Aaron ( _another dead student, another dead Chaos mage)._ His grey eyes are bright with the tears that are still rolling down his cheeks but fury and fear and grief in equal measure make his voice shake as he shouts back at Master North.

_No. This isn’t possible. It isn’t possible –_

_I knew Callum was keeping secrets but I never imagined –_

_Not even Constantine could accomplish something like this –_

But as he continues to stare at Callum, his mind transports him back through the years, to another boy crying and cradling the body of a loved one, a boy whose furious, grief-stricken shouts had echoed through the corridors of the Magisterium, and a whisper of doubt slides through Rufus’ mind.

Before he can decide what to do however, the other Masters unfreeze from their temporary shock and swarm Callum, creating chains to bind him, despite his and Tamara’s cries of protest.

It is Rufus who carries Aaron’s lifeless body back to the Magisterium and as he steps over the threshold, he feels old and wearied beyond his years. He closes his eyes in grief as he carefully lays Aaron down on a bed in the infirmary, Call and Tamara’s shouts still echoing in his ears.

_Could I have been wrong again? Taken in by the same person twice?_

Sometimes it feels as though his shoulders will break under the weight of his mistakes one day.

_I don’t know what to believe anymore._

xxx

Tamara looks painfully alone now.

She is one-third of a trio that did everything together, and her missing puzzle pieces are either imprisoned or gone forever.

She goes everywhere with Call’s Chaos-ridden wolf, Havoc , by her side, her hand twisted into his ruff as though she’s afraid he will disappear if she lets go. Havoc in turn presses against her legs constantly and growls at anyone who gets too close, or looks at Tamara the wrong way – and there are a lot of such looks these days. The murmurs from the rest of the student body are both angry and fearful and oddly pitying when they look at Tamara, but she holds her head high and ignores them with all the regal dignity she can muster, despite the fact that her eyes are red-rimmed from crying and that her hand never leaves the reassuring warmth and steadiness of Havoc’s presence beside her.

It is a week after Aaron’s death, a week since Callum was dragged off in chains to the Panopticon, when they are sitting in class (the room is achingly empty without the presence of his other two students) and Rufus finds himself speaking without having intended to.

“Did you know? About Callum?”

He is fairly sure he knows what her answer will be. She hadn’t seemed surprised at all by Callum’s words, and had fought the Masters through her tears, both verbally and physically, to prevent them from taking him. What Rufus really wants to know is _why_.

_Why did you defend him? When did you find out? What could Constantine possibly have said to you, and presumably Aaron –_ _Aaron, who would be in the most danger from Constantine – to make you continue trusting him? Was Call ever real? Have I been manipulated from the start?_

The jumbled thoughts swirl in his head, even as his heart aches with betrayal, anger and grief, old and new alike, for the student he lost years before and the one he lost mere days ago. Tamara raises her head from her work in response to his question, and her gaze is just as defiant meeting his as it is when she meets the judging eyes of her fellow students.

“Yes,” she says, quiet but firm. “I knew. So did A-Aaron and Jasper. We found out last year.”

Rufus raises an eyebrow, working to keep his expression impassive. “Why did you not share this knowledge?” _Did he persuade you to keep it a secret? In that way, at least, Callum seems very unlike Constantine – more prone to sarcastic remarks and deliberately annoying people, than charming them into doing his bidding._

“Because Callum’s _not Constantine!”_ Tamara shoots to her feet, her hands slamming down on her desk as she glares at him. From under her desk, Havoc growls, faint but menacing. “Not in any way that matters! Of course we had our doubts at first, who wouldn’t, but it doesn’t take much time or a genius to work out that Callum is a completely different person!  It doesn’t matter he has Constantine’s soul – he doesn’t remember anything about his past life and he grew up to be a _good person!_ It’s horribly unfair he’s being persecuted for this!”

She stops to take a giant gulp of air, almost panting from her speech and from the force of the emotion behind it; she’s glaring at the desk now instead of him, blinking hard to keep the tears from forming again, as Havoc whines softly and noses at her leg.

“Tamara.” Rufus keeps his voice gentle, making sure that he maintains a tight lid on his own emotions. “I imagine a large portion of the questioning Callum will have to undergo is on that very subject – whether he _does_ remember who he used to be and if he’s the same person or not. If he has stolen a new face and body by taking over Callum as an infant, and used them to trick people into trusting him. There’s no precedent for something like this happening – can an essentially reincarnated soul be persecuted for the crimes of a past life? Regardless, now that they know, people will look at him and see not Callum, but Constantine come again.”

“And is that what you think, Master Rufus?” Tamara’s head comes up again, holding his gaze furiously despite the tears glimmering in her eyes. “Do you believe he tricked people? Do you only see Constantine now?”

Rufus is silent for a long moment, Tamara’s question piercing through the flood of his own confused emotions on the subject. “I…don’t know,” he says eventually. “I know I want to believe Callum, that he is his own person. But I know I am also emotionally biased. Constantine was my student once, who I liked and trusted and believed was a good person – and everyone knows how _he_ turned out. I also like Callum very much – and I am very much afraid of making the same mistake.”

Tamara stares at him, wide-eyed and clearly astonished by the frank reply from her normally reserved Master. But only Callum himself deserves the truth of his thoughts more. “Regardless,” he continues. “I believe we will both have the chance to say our piece, since the Assembly will be questioning us both tomorrow, along with most of the Magisterium. Although I imagine that you, being one of Callum’s best friends, and I being his teacher, will have to bear a great deal more scrutiny than most.”

_Being accidentally in charge of the only two Makaris of their generation was already a heavy enough burden – now one is dead and the other accused of being both his murderer and the Enemy of Death._ He’s seen the way the other Masters look at him now too, with pity and suspicion both. _You’ve already taught him once, why didn’t you realise who he was?_ The question hangs unspoken in the air between them – and perhaps worse, the assumption by some that maybe he did.

“I _want_ to believe in Callum, Tamara,” he says, looking directly at his sole remaining charge. (The empty spaces on either side of her feel like voids more hollow than anything caused by chaos magic.) “I _want_ to defend him. But I also wish to talk to him myself, knowing what I know now – to speak to him face to face, and judge the truth for myself, as best as I can.”

There is silence for a long moment. Then Tamara nods a little, face pale but mostly composed again. “I understand.” She takes her seat again and Havoc moves to lie comfortingly against her legs.

Once more, the only sound in the room is faint scratching of Tamara’s pen as she resumes her work and between them, the weight of the unspoken worry for what the future will hold.

xxx

It’s almost surprising, how unchanged Callum Hunt looks.

Physically, six months of growth means he’s gained a little height, become a little skinner – but mostly he looks like the same lean, grumpy kid that Rufus has seen grow into a lean, grumpy teenager over the last three years.

_Did I expect him to look different, now I know the truth?_ Rufus wonders, unconsciously searching for signs of Constantine in Callum’s face. His hair is black, not brown, and his features are completely different, a combination of Sarah and Alastair, and nothing at all like Constantine. His eyes are the only real similarity – storm-grey, and intense, and currently lit with surprise as he catches sight of his former teacher on the other side of the interrogation table.

Behind him, Rufus hears the movement of two of the prison guards, and hears the murmur of dislike and unease pass between them at the sight of Callum – and is abruptly worried all over again for the safety of his student here, among people who hate and fear Constantine. _These people don’t even have the advantage of knowing Callum as a person; they didn’t see him every day for almost three years, watch him laugh and argue and grow with the other students._

It’s an effort to remind himself to keep his face set in a stern countenance, even as Callum’s surprised expression turns into a pleased and almost happy one at the sight of him. _Don’t give anything away. If he really is Constantine, really is an adult’s mind in a fifteen year old’s body, any perceived weakness will be exploited._

It was hard to remember that though, in the face of the way Call drops so gracelessly (so unlike Constantine) into the chair in front of him, and the fact that the first words he blurts out are, “How’s Tamara? Is she alright?”

Rufus takes a deep breath, ready for what is sure to be a difficult conversation, regardless of the outcome.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I think I originally picked up the Iron Trial during my holidays in summer just past. I intrigued by the premise of a boy who didn’t want to go to a magical school and I definitely enjoyed it, especially the characters, but I wasn’t feeling particularly compelled to read the next one – until the reveal at the end. That got my attention, because holy shit, what an emotional wringer to put your main character through. I was definitely interested in reading more after that, but didn’t get the chance until last week; I read books two to four in less than a day and oh my God I loved them. Less so the Silver Mask – I feel like the characterisation was a little off (the romance was kind shoehorned in between dramatic scenes too, and some of the humour really didn’t fit the darker themes present in the fourth book, I thought), and I really didn’t like the substitution of Alex for Master Joseph as the big bad of the series. Especially given that the Silver Mask spends most of its time setting Alex up as a pretentious wannabe evildoer/making fun of him for his posing. In short, I don’t find him threatening at all. xD 
> 
> However, the thing I find most compelling about this series is Callum’s struggle with the acts his past self committed and how terrified he is of ending up like Constantine and/or people finding out he used to be Constantine. I like also how the longer the series goes on, you can see how Constantine’s love and grief over his brother’s death lead him down the path that drove him to become the most reviled and feared mage in history – and that Callum sees that too. (Another reason I didn’t much like the Silver Mask, was it implied that Constantine didn’t actually care about his brother’s life – a blatant contradiction to the previously stated motivation for wanting to find a way to reverse death, to bring back his beloved brother.) Either way, Callum gradually comes to see the whole ‘road to hell is paved with good intentions’ type thing that clearly happened to Constantine – which makes it less easy to see him as a purely evil person, and easier to see how anyone might end up like him. 
> 
> Anyway, I’ve waffled enough. xD I hope you enjoyed the fic; I definitely enjoyed exploring the moment Callum outs himself in front of the Magisterium masters in the middle over his grief over Aaron’s death, from Master Rufus’ POV. (Because damn, we did not hear enough from him in the books – I loved the start of the Silver Mask when he and Callum got the chance to talk. I did my best to explore the complicated tangle of thoughts and feelings he’d have about Callum technically being Constantine reborn.)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
